


the pool

by gayicedlatte



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, david being hot and knowing it, patrick being gay, the motel has a pool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayicedlatte/pseuds/gayicedlatte
Summary: au where the motel has a pool.that's it.





	the pool

"Stevie?" Patrick knocks on the lobby door before entering all the way, closing it behind him.

"Yeah?” Stevie appears from the office behind the desk. "Oh, Patrick. What's up?"

"I was looking for David, I knocked at his room and no one answered."

"Oh, he's out back. He's not a big fan of lingering in his room after the whole lice thing." Stevie points to a door near the staircase. There's a kind of happy, terrifying gleam in her eye that Patrick hasn't quite deciphered yet, but knows can't be good.

He hesitates a second, trying to figure her out before he moves toward the door. "Thanks."

He thinks he hears her say something else, "Prepare yourself," maybe, and it baffles him for a moment until he's on the other side of the door. 

The motel has a pool. 

Rhythmic splashing leads his eyes to the figure gliding across the pool at a decent clip. Patrick watches him turn effortlessly and head back, unable to take his eyes off toned arms as they disappear and reappear for two more laps. David comes to a stop at the near end of the pool, elbows on the concrete as he pushes his hair back with both hands.

"Patrick?" 

He tries to answer and nothing comes out.

All he can do is stand there and watch David's unshaven forearms flex as he keeps himself steady in the water. 

David gives him a quizzical look as he starts to push himself out of the pool.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Patrick's breath hitches as smooth, broad shoulders appear, followed by an enticingly fuzzy chest and stomach and Patrick basically shorts out at that point, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to get himself under control.

He takes a second to contemplate just how hilarious it is, in this current moment, suffering heavily at the sight of this man, that he ever thought he was straight. He's struck by just how strong his reactions to the sheer breadth of David are; his shoulders, his chest, his back. He wants to measure every plane of him with his hands, feel the solidness of him above him, beneath him--

_Get it together, Brewer._

He takes a deep breath, bringing his head back down and hoping David doesn't think he's losing his mind. When his gaze levels, David is standing at the edge of the pool, wiping his face on a bright white towel. Patrick lets his eyes do one scan of the form in front of him from head to toe and immediately wishes he hadn't.

God help him, David's swim shorts are tight, black and only go halfway down his thigh. Patrick looks away, out to the trees behind the motel, and takes another very, very deep breath.

David draws his attention back as he takes a couple steps towards him, starting to dry his arms and torso. Patrick does _not_ allow himself to watch his chest hair swirl into new patterns. "What are you doing here?"

Moment of truth. Patrick clears his throat. "You, uh, wanted me to let you know when the new candles came in from the Carmichael's. I couldn't get a hold of you, so I decided to drop by after closing up."

"Oh! Right, sorry, I was swimming."

Patrick lets a tiny grin spread his face, relaxing slightly at the prospect of getting to tease David. He glances once, pointedly, down to David's bare chest. "I see that."

David looks down, seeming to realize he is damn near naked in front of his business partner. He's unable to contain a bashful little smile, clutching the towel to his front. "Oh. Right, um..."

"I didn't even know there was a pool here. Or that you liked to swim. Or that you could swim," Patrick interrupts, grinning and pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Funny," David shoots back sarcastically. Patrick can imagine David is beginning to regret ever telling him about his bike riding lessons. "If I'm going to be forced to exercise to keep my girlish figure," David gestures to himself and Patrick can't help but think there's absolutely nothing girlish about him, "I prefer to not be a sweaty mess when I'm done."

Patrick smiles. "Right."

David narrows his eyes at him.

"Sorry, just trying to reconcile the fact that you do, in fact, participate in a sport." 

Patrick's grin grows at the look on David's face. "Is it really a sport, though?" David tries to argue.

"Yes," Patrick responds, nodding slowly. "Yes, it is." 

David just grimaces, and Patrick gives him a break. "You want to head to the store?"

"Give me two hours."

Patrick raises his eyebrows at him. 

"Okay, do you see this?" David shoves a hand through his dark hair and musses it a bit, curls breaking free from where they'd been plastered to his head. "It's gonna be a minute." 

Patrick spares a glance for David's curled bicep before watching a few stray curls fall onto David's forehead. "120 minutes, apparently."

"I will not apologize for refusing to appear in public imitating a very fashionable drowned rat."

Patrick chuckles, "Fine. An hour and a half."

"An hour and 45 minutes at the absolute minimum," David says around a grin and moves past Patrick towards the back door of his room. 

Patrick remains rooted to the spot. He can't keep himself from watching David walk away, it's just...he can't do it.

The breath is knocked out of him by the desire to run his hands across the immense, smooth planes of David's back. He stifles whatever god-forsaken noise just tried to escape him by biting his lips. His eyes fall for only a split second to his ass but it's enough to make him waver on his feet. 

When David reaches his door, he turns to give Patrick a smile, twisted to one side like he knows exactly what he just did to him. 

_Son of a..._

David winks at him and disappears into the motel.


End file.
